


You Started Asking Questions

by Impalababycakes



Series: Wincest Mini Fics [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Brothers, Canon Divergent, Character driven fic, Dean loves his Sammy, M/M, Meta, Pre series, SWEET BOYS, Sub!Dean, Teen Sam, This is just something I wrote to get it off my mind, Wincest - Freeform, Would do anything for his little brother, experimenting, gif fic, gifs, it was cute and I don’t know, sorta - Freeform, time lapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21627505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalababycakes/pseuds/Impalababycakes
Summary: When his brother was little he always asked questions, and every one Dean shut down with a vague answer or protest, but once Sam lost the baby fat and his arms filled out around his favorite oversized shirt, his smile had formed dimples into his cheeks and his gaze could meet his—standing...Same came 'home’ asking questions Dean was not ready for.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Sam/Dean
Series: Wincest Mini Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549594
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	You Started Asking Questions

Two little boys hung up in a motel, two little boys sat next to each other on a bed bigger than them both.

The older brother flipped through pages of a children's book and read out loud to his infant brother curled under his arm, still teething on his thumb.

"And they all lived happily ever after." Dean sighed and clapped the book shut, then he flung the spit off his arm that came from sleeping toddler drooling all over his arm.

The toddler hiccuped himself awake and pinched his nose as a giggle bubbled out. "Wouh wee eva gep ah happy inngding?" ("Would we ever get a happy ending?") He asked.

Dean's face saddend, he was young and kids his age are supposed to have a sparkle in their eye, because they looked towards the future to have all the answers.

Not Dean, his eyes were dark and his heart hung by a thread in his chest.

Kids don't care about now, a kid is supposed to be a kid and not worry about death.

Dean was different, he feared death at the hands of monsters, he anticipated the death of his father and he feared the aftermath of responsibility.

With the way things had been going already after the passing of their mom, he wondered that everyday.

...Catching their father passed out at the table, either a revolver or bottle in his hand, the times he would grab them both and his dad shot a murderous glare into him.

Dean feared John's obsession and revenge-driven spirit would never give them a peaceful life. The road to happiness was narrow with their father behind the wheel.

But how could he put that into words for a 3 year old to understand? That was near impossible and Dean knew that...

"You got your bedtime story, now go to sleep." Dean huffed out.

"Buh—"

"I DON'T KNOW...Sammy." Dean said it so disdainfully, but when he got to his brother's name there was no trace of his anger left.

Dean flopped back onto his pillow, and wriggled his arms into the mattress to situate their bodies to where they were both comfortable.

Dean rolled on his side to face the little boy sucking on his toes, gross...

"Any happy inngding is me wit youh, Deee, youh mm me." ("Any happy ending is me with you, Dean, you and me.") Little Sammy grinned, then pressed his forehead into Dean's like a stamp, maybe he wanted to get a closer look at him.

Those bright eyes were filled with hope, and not more than 3 years ago he spent 9 months in the dark of their mother's womb.

Hope... Something Dean couldn't recall having in years, but he loved seeing it in that wide eyed turned hazel gaze, that alone could make Dean defy the odds stacked against them and it did. 

"Night, Sammy."

Dean hummed and bumped his forehead into the little guy, causing his chubby self to slide across to the end of the bed.

Even more giggling erupted from the toddler's throat like a volcano, Dean was on fire for those little sounds, he smiled like he was hearing Sammy for the first time, he cherished those moments....and as the giggles subsided, Sammy waved his diminutive arms around, staring up at the ceiling and opened and closed his hands, catching stars he imagined were there—all for Dean. 

He thought Dean eating some stars would brighten up his face, but when he was sure he had enough, he scooted back over to his big brother, only to find he had fallen asleep.

"Uh oh." Little Sammy gasped and a giggle almost escaped but he held his breath just in time. "Gu-"

"De," Sammy whispered, "I put dem thewe" then he cupped his hands together, opened them up and blew all the tiny stars into Dean's face.

"Saaafe, they be saaafe, alll the-thereee." Sammy crinkled his nose, a pinch of frustration because pronouncing words was hard.

He cuddled close to the only other body in the room, his big brother would keep him warm and safe, he always did. "Nigh, De." And with that, little Sammy slept safe and sound through the night.

...

Two boys, the little one a little older, he was walking and running like a pro athlete, but most distinctively to determine the younger one's age without a second thought was the eagerness in his tone.

At 5 Sammy knew for damn sure he had a mouth and how to run that too.

It was a early morning at another motel Dean couldn't bother to remember the name of, their dad was off hunting monsters and left him to take care of a very hungry little brother.

Dean stood at the mini stove and watched over a pot filled with alphabet soup. There was enough for both of them and that alone spouts a smile on Dean because he couldn't be more relieved.

Once the soup finished heating, Dean grabbed a few of their father's shirts, wadded them up and put them around his hands to use as a substitute for oven mitts.

He picked up the pot by the handles and carried it over to the table, where a impatient little Sammy sat with his growling stomach, on his throne waiting to be served, like the spoiled little punk he was.

Dean tipped forth the pot into the bowl and out streamed letters and red tomato sauce.

Sammy banged his silver spoon into the wooden table and the *cling it made rattled Dean's brain, but he shook his head, finishing it off by pouring his own soup into a bowl.

He took a seat across from Sammy, and instead of using a spoon himself, he sipped it from the bowl, ever since he saw their dad eat it that way, Dean had been doing it too.

"Thanks, De." Sammy said, before plunging his spoon into the tasty soup.

"I can spell now, lots of words."

"Yeah? Like what?" Dean asked between slurps, and the bowl hid Sam behind it so he just stared at the inside of his bowl.

"I can spell your name." Sammy scooped up the letters and shook them off his spoon onto the table.

But to Dean, Sam was just making a damn mess.

Sammy rearranged the four letters with his fingers until it spelled 'Dean'

He was proud of his work, but only admired it for a moment.

When Dean lowered his bowl and saw it, he appreciated it a lot longer and there's the stupid smile already plastered across his face. All he thought was _Dammit, Sammy, look what you did._

By that time Sam was already diving for his next set of letters, he had put 3 beside 'Dean' and rearranged them to spell 'Dad'. "And Dad's."

"Well, uhm- Dad's name is not _Dad_ , but I'll give you that one I guess."

Dean remained impressed, he knew Sam was going to grow up a smart kid, he learned things fast either that or Dean was a good teacher, he'd like to think it was because of that, it was good on his ego.

"No, his name is Dad, I'm sure of it, that's what you call him, his name is Dad." Sammy fought, puffing out his chest.

"Okay, okay, you know, soooo..." Dean shrugged it off and played the part of the misinformed one instead.

Sammy nodded and licked his spoon clean then drops it back into the soup, rummaging thought letters to discover his final set. 

Dean brings his bowl back to his lips and gulped down the rest of the soup.

"There!": Was all Dean heard Sam yell, and he quickly lowered his bowl, his upper lip left coated by the tomato sauce.

And the word was upside down but it wasn't hard to read with it only consisting of 3 letters...'Mom'.

The moment after, Dean felt his chest tighten and he curled his fingers into his shirt because he knew deep down where this would go, he knew it was only a matter of time before Sam got curious and today was that day.

"How come we don't have a mom—"

"No." Dean said fatly, cutting his brother off without meaning to, his brain hadn't even registered the question yet and he's already replying.

"What?" Sammy furrowed his little eyebrows at that, he was visibly concerned.

"I—... Sammy, we got Dad, you got me, that's what we got." Dean wasn't sure what he had said made sense to Sam but it made sense to him.

"But, why don't we have a mom?"

"Quit asking."

"But—"

"Eat your food." Dean pointed, scolding his brother for bringing up such a taboo subject at the table.

"Okay." Sammy sighed, dipping his spoon back in, swirling the letters around, left downtrodden. "Also, you got a red mustache."

"What?" Dean tried to lick it off his upper lip but settled dirtying his arm with tomato sauce instead, then slurping it up. "Mmph... Gone?" 

Sammy smiled, then har-spooned some letters into Dean's face. "Gone."

...

Two boys, two brothers walking side by side down the street, Sammy holding tightly onto his big brother's hand, Dean switched sides with him to be on the edge next to traffic. He kept Sammy safe.

As they walked a few miles, Sammy waved his hands when he spotted a park, wanting to stop and play, but Dean had a responsibility to be home before dark our their father would be cross.

If it wasn't for all the bricks Sammy had stuffed in his backpack they would have moved a lot faster, at least, that's what Dean thought was in there.

"I made friends today, Luke and...a girl, but I didn't get her name and we didn't really talk. Just stare at each other across the classroom, she said hi with her eyes, how did she do that?" Sammy chuckled, and tried his best to keep up with his brother.

"She bat her eyelashes at you?" Dean avoided the cracks after he noticed Sammy doing the same with every step.

"Yeah! She said something, but who knows, I don't speak girl." Sammy jumped up.

"Yeah, well, Dad's ready to get goin by sundown, we're outa here, Sammy." Dean let go of his brothers hand to do some stretching.

"But... What about my friends?" Sammy wondered.

"Well, I can ask Dad if they'll fit in the trunk."

"..."

Dean looked over at his little brother who has the biggest scowl on his face he could probably have it stick that way, but Dean didn't say that.

"Bad idea?" Dean asked, interrupting the silence between them.

"Not funny." Sammy grumbled petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do we always have to move around?"

"Because everywhere we go, they get sick of your face." Dean groaned.

"You used that answer six times, I need a better one." Sammy wasn't having it, he was getting tired of Dean's cop outs, now he was old enough to know better.

"Okay, you really wanna know?"

"YES." Sammy confirmed.

"Dad's wanted by the police, all states, so we have to move around and he uses fake names so they never catch us, pretty cool huh?"

"You're lying _again_." Sammy scoffed.

Dean cocked his head and really took that answer he gave _in_ , it was some of the truth just not all of the truth, but it didn't matter because Sam was relentless. _This guy._

"Then quit asking."

"But—"

"Knock it off. We have to get back to the motel before it gets dark, so let's go."

"But—"

"If you let it go, I'll push you on the swing real fast."

"Really?!" Sammy jumped again.

"Yeah, just—"

But by the time Dean had turned, Sam was already rushing as fast as his legs could carry him into the park, and Dean ran after him, wrapping his arms around his waist, dragging him to the swing set.

...

Two boys, two teen boys bored out of their mind in another motel, their dad had been gone for days and they were running out of food.

Sam was propped up on the couch with a dc comic book, somehow he was reading it upside down and all the blood was rushing to his skull. You'd think the kid would be dead by now, but there he was, sitting upside down on the friggin couch.

"You okay over there?" Dean leaned in closer thinking that would make a difference, though it was feet apart from his bed to the couch.

"I don't know, thing's getting blurry." Sammy squinted, flipping a page over.

"Wow, maybe that's your cue to—I don't knoooow, sit right on the friggin sofa." Dean commented, gruffly.

"Okay, Mom." Sammy rolled his eyes at that, then proceeded to give Dean the finger.

For awhile they carried on as they normally would on separate sides of the room, then Dean made a mistake of breaking the silence with a sneeze he couldn't hold in any longer. Well crap.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you." Sammy said on reflex, then closed his book and gave Dean his full undivided attention.

"Where does dad go when he takes off for days at a time? You want to explain that?" Sammy sneered. (Well, it wasn't the _good_ kind of attention, it turned into more of a stare down).

"No, not really." Dean added his infamous nonchalant reply to really 'sweeten the pot'.

"Course you don't, when do you ever..."

"You trying to start a fight?"

"I'm _trying_ to get answers, De, at least _one_ would be nice, I'm not a damn kid anymore!"

"You are til I say so, you are a kid, so stay a damn kid. Quit asking, Sammy, I'm begging you, Man, you don't want to know."

"You know, I don't get it, why you never question anything dad does, anything about our life, you just accept it. Why do you get to know and I DON'T?" Sammy snapped.

"Because _I'M_ older!" Dean yelled.

"Then when _I'm_ 17, you gotta tell me, you have to, I'll expect answers and not half ass ones either, not 'dad's a superhero, he fights monsters', not 'your face is ugly so we move so people don't have to look at it', not 'Mom went away' I want you to tell me everything I ask." 

"Everything?" Dean grinds his teeth, already fearing the day.

"No matter what I ask of you, you tell me the truth, you _show_ me."

"Okay."

"No, not good enough, you have to promise me."

"Sammy, come on. What if I can't show you? What if there's nothing to prove it?"

"You _show_ me." Sammy demanded of his older brother, strictly. "You _make_ proof, not plant it in my head, you give it to me so I know your word _counts_." Sammy ended with a glare.

"Promise." Dean gulped down the rest. "I promise." Dean gave in, but it would be years from now so he wasn't at this very moment, but he sold himself out in about 4 years...

But what it was to Dean then was a cop out, another way to get Sammy to stop breathing down his neck.

The rest of the night they sat close and he helped Sammy with his homework, it was quiet. John didn't come home for another few days, but Dean made sure Sammy had everything he needed to get by. It didn't matter how old Sammy got, he'd always be his little brother, but deep down Dean knew he could only keep the boy in the dark for so long...

...

One brother, one brother has his arms and legs splayed out across the bed, taking a afternoon nap in a motel all by his lonesome. 

Luckily, he couldn't get lonely in his sleep because all he did when he slept is sleep, and have an occasional wet dream with a pretty face, that got _him_ by.

Dean unconsciously pushes up his shirt and scratches his belly, he was used to sleeping on his stomach so having a stomach be bare to air felt _weird_. Whatever...

Dean breathes softly, the room is cold because of winter, luckily it didn't snow where they decided to stop, only chills filter through the vents, the temperature cold and misty enough that Dean could see his breath in the room if he woke up, and it raises hairs all over.

Dean shivers, grabbing at the sheet and covers his lower body with it, also all while unconscious. "Friggin freezing my ass off..." Dean whimpers. "D-Damn..."

And now Dean is awake. He shot up from his pillow, holding himself and trying to warm his arms by rubbing them hot. "Can't be this cold, G-Ghost, there's a ghost!" Dean exclaims once he sees his breath.

Then there's a knock at the door as Dean flinches, scooting away from the front, thinking some distance will help him escape whatever monster lurks behind that door.

But it's not a monster, it's got a key, and it's groaning like a hormonally frustrated teen from the other side.

The door opens and Sammy steps inside the motel, wiping off his shoes on the carpet, he doesn't say anything so he must be mad or tired.

Dean's muscles can relax once he sees Sammy's face in the doorway and he almost sinks back down into his bed, but his brother is home so the least he can do is... greet him at the door or something.

Dean stands, and saunters over to him, he's only in his t shirt and thin black shorts, half of his thighs are bare and all the rest, and he wonders why he's cold...

"Uh, might want to uhm— think there's a ghost, it's friggin cold and I can see my breath."

"No ghost, I lined the door with salt and the two windows before I left this morning."

Sammy found answers to his questions earlier on than he expected, 14 was a good age, he felt older but that's only because John finally spit it all out, not because Dean did, because Dean didn't, but Sammy was happy being more knowledgeable.

With Sammy having a full understanding of everything that goes bump in the night, he knows how to protect his family too.

"Smart, Sammy." Dean manages to say between chattering teeth.

"My hoodie." Sammy says, rushing over to his duffle and pulling out the black thing, tossing it to him. "You can borrow it."

"T-Thanks, I o-owe you one." Dean waists no time in slipping it on and zipping it up, then rubs the sleeves together. "Brrrr."

"Better?" Sammy asks.

" _Awesome_." Dean purrs in between his hands, trying to warm his nose.

Sammy smiles, shutting the door and dropping his school satchel on the floor.

He pulls at the scarf around his neck and unravels it until it's all in the warm of his hand, he proceeds to hang it on the coat rack and kicks off his boots.

Dean loves the soft feeling and smell of Sammy on the hoodie he wears so proudly, it calms his nerves for a little while.

"You want some time alone with that?" Sammy raises an eyebrow.

"What? Psh, shut up. It's just nice, don't gotta make it creepy."

Dean sure didn't make it that way, Sammy was a sweet and delicate flower, if someone plays with it too much its petals will fall. He had to preserve it in a jar as something pretty to look at but not touch, that was his Sammy, he had one of those signs that said 'look but don't touch' to put it simply.

Dean loved that about Sammy, but at the same time kudos to the pretty girl that's patient enough and careful with him to be his last love or whatever.

Dean didn't catch himself staring at Sammy's neck until he caught _him_ , but he doesn't speak against it because he didn't know what Dean is thinking.

Food, Dean is thinking about food, he's starving. What he would give for a burger right about now...

"We gotta talk." Sammy breaks through to Dean—mid thought.

And Dean is back to reality and not his dream world where he's eating a giant cheeseburger.

"Yeah? Wuh- Uh... What's up?" Dean waits, already impatiently for Sammy's reply. Spit it out already, come on, what happened? Does he have to beat someone up? Dean is a little worried once he spends time overthinking.

"So, there's a girl in my class, can't remember her name uhm- she really likes me, a _lot_ , and I know we don't stay long and all that, so I mean— it doesn't matter."

"Uhhh...uh-huh?" Dean is trying to understand where this is going, but he has no idea.

"Truth is, after she confessed to me or whatever I realized I couldn't really feel the same way she does, cuz my heart's not in it....I want— I never kissed anyone before, and I want to, I— I— but I'm afraid I'll mess up." Sammy looks down.

Sweet innocent little Sammy, Dean is about to melt at how clueless he is, but he thinks _I'm gonna give this kid the girl talk and he's gonna be such a pimp. So proud of you, Sammy, taking ass and forgetting names._

Dean is smirking presently and proud and Sammy sees it and notices something else.

"Your freckles never disappear, huh?"

"Nah, they're kinda an all year around thing." That smirk gets wider as they keep talking.

"Thought the winter would freeze them over or they'd sink back into your face, it's nice they stay."

"Yeah, it's great, now you gonna stand here and play connect the dots or are we gonna talk kissing? Cuz lips on lips is my language, little brother." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

"Uh—" Sammy laughs. "Yeah, sure, Dean." Then he trains his face to have no emotion, almost dead like and remaining serious only for this moment. "So... Kissing." Then he loses it in more laughter.

"Yeah, with the lips and the— lips." Dean makes kissy noises to taunt his little brother. "Oh Sammy~" And that voice is unrecognizable by either party, Dean didn't even know he could get that high. Then he uses his hand to demonstrate what 'not' to do. "Oh I love you soooo much, ohhhh Sammy~"

"Dude!" Sammy snorts. "First off, no girl would call me 'Sammy', since we're talking about _girls now_."

"Ooooh, Mr Winchester, You're my highway and I want to ride you allllll night loooong~"

"Well that's even worse, never- nevermind!" Sammy holds his stomach because he's wheezing now.

"Okay, so we're back to: AHHHH~ SAMMY~"

"Dude, I'm gonna- freakin punch you-" Sammy struggles to hold himself together. "Soon as- S- Hhhh."

Dean continues to lick his hand and it's a sight that would have to be witnessed in person to scream and holler at how dumb it looks.

"Dude! Now you're just making out with your hand!" Sammy screams. "I'm nervous enough as it is, can't you- be a little understanding of my situation? Jeeze!" No more laughing, his chest hurts, he can't laugh anymore even if he wants to, which he does.

Dean stops his make out session with his palm and wipes his hand on his pants, relaxing his muscles beneath Sammy's big, warm, hoodie. Oh he loves it.

"Okay, in all seriousness, pet the neck, ease them into it, or shoulder, grabbing the face, like- cupping the cheeks is real nice cuz it keeps your lips in place until you let go, good move if you like to control what's happening." Dean stars using his fingers to list off steps, tapping each of them as he covers this teachable moment.

Sammy listens and watches with a close eye on Dean's movements, his gaze is locked on his brother because he doesn't want to miss anything. "Got it."

"You're 17 so no kindergarten peck either, something sensual, reel them in, leave them wanting more, they like that." Dean nods.

"You sure?" Sammy is a little doubtful about that, then again he doesn't have much to go by, only Dean's word.

"Oh yeah, can't give yourself to them all at once, gotta get them wanting you first. Hell, we got time for a little fun before we leave, go at it." Dean happily sighs.

"Just... Just like that?"

"Sammy, you take what you want, always get what you want, you're confident, charming, smart, I mean— you got this." Dean pats his brother's shoulder, gazing fondly up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Sammy takes a deep breath, straightening out his back and calms his nerves to the sound of Dean's shallow breathing. "Dean, I got this."

"Yeah, you do."

Dean teeters his head from side to side as an affirmation, he's so proud, he couldn't think of a more glorious occasion than today.

Sammy grew up and Dean sees him as a man now, he's not a boy, he earned the title, he's getting older, his brother is falling in love, he wants things, to experiment with the skin he grew into.

Dean in the past has questioned his importance to Sam, but he doesn't have to anymore, because here Sam is standing before him asking for advice and guidance, because he's still his big brother, he's still the one he looks up to even when he has to look down a little bit now. _Sammy you tall, gangly, fuck, that's not fair._ Dean pouts.

_Sammy_... Then Dean strays with a proudness just his.

But once more his thought is interrupted when he feels a softness caress his neck and fingers smooth down to trace his throat. He swallows.

"There a piece of fuzz on me or somethin? What you pickin at?" Dean squints in confusion.

"I'm touching your neck." Sam whispers between them.

"Okaaay, whhyyyy?" Dean puffs out hot air.

"Told me to."

"Uh- What?" And Dean begins to do math in his head because now he's beyond confused.

"Now I'm gonna..." Sammy takes his other hand and slides it up Dean's neck, until he can dip his fingers underneath his jaw to keep him still. "Take your face in my hands."

Dean can hardly breath because Sammy- s Sam is inching closer to his face, he doesn't have his own space anymore, what is going on, WHAT IS GOING ON?

"S... Sah..." Dean whines, he thinks it's a whine, is it a whine? Shit, who knows anymore.

"I got this, remember? We got time, lot of time for mistakes, Dean." Sam assures, so calmly like this was all rehearsed before he even walked through that door.

Sam presses his forehead into the other's, leaning into the warmth and closes his eyes just to listen to the room. It doesn't make a sound.

"Sam..." It felt weird saying it, but it came out that way, this was no time for cutesy nicknames. This was serious business.

if Sam wanted to be treated like an adult, that's what Dean would do, he'd talk to him reasonably instead of lashing out like he's a bratty child. "Sam...What are you doing?" Dean clicks his tongue at the roof of his mouth, trying to calm his breathing. 

"I want you to _show_ me."

Sam whispers softly between them again, they're breathing each others breath into their lungs and don't realize yet, that's why everything feels so warm and inviting for Sam, but not for _everyone_.

There's a lot of things Dean wanted to say, but none of the words surfaced into the room, just his mind and they stayed there. Dean couldn't speak anymore, the worst time for his throat to close up.

_I can't do this, I can't show you this, I know my promise, but please little brother, anything but this._

_Turn away from me, please... God..._

Sam rises up and he's standing straight until he leans in again, cupping Dean's soft face and keeping him there, his thumbs caress his cheeks but Dean doesn't see it, his mind is blank, his body is frozen.

A softness brushes his bottom lip, Dean's eyes snap shut and he tries to imagine the sweet, soft, lips that are pressing into his are not— fuck, they're not...

_Fuck. FUCK!_

Dean attempts to jerk away but Sam's got a hold on him, _fuck_ , everything he said Sam is using as a damn guideline right now, _FUCK_. That's right, he forgot.

He feels like a dummy, a dummy Sam can practice on because one thing's for sure, he was a fucking dummy to walk right into this and dig his own fucking grave and then he gave Sam the shovel to burry him alive. He is beyond fucked.

Soon Dean feels those soft lips on his twist within the kiss, Sam is tilting his head to deepen the kiss and Dean is not ready for that either when he feels something wet shove him in the lips.

_You have got to be fucking— Sam no, no, NO. FUCK, PLEASE._

Dean uses his palms and presses into Sam's chest, trying to push off and that startles Sam enough to pull away instantly.

"Dean?" Sam cups his face again and studies it, this time like he's looking for something. "You don't look so good, do you need to lay down?"

"No, No!" Dean yells. "No, I'm not, n-nobody is laying down— anywhere, I am standing right here. STANDING." Dean's breath starts to hitch.

"Dean, I don't understand...What's wrong?"

"Y-You just— _YOU KISSED ME!_ Our lips did the _THING_ and, and, and—" Dean licks his lips out of nervous habit and it's so much worse than he expected. "I can _TASTE_ you!"

"This is bad I... I did something bad, I don't—...What do I taste like? Is it good?”   
  


That’s right, how could Dean expect Sam to take him seriously, he’s over there basking in the fact that he just had his first kiss.   
  


“You tasted like— Well, You.” Dean clears his throat.   
  


“You really suck at answers, you know that? I can stand here and tell you that I caught some traces of that left over cherry pie... So you taste really sweet.”

“...Skin...” Dean deadpans.   
  
  


Sam sighs, even though that was his first kiss, Dean has had hundreds so he imagined it wasn’t all that special. “I’m... Really sorry, Dean.” 

"Where did- Did we not- Where did we get this from our talk just now? Where did it come from?!"

"Dean, I thought it was okay, cuz you said we had time for fun before we left again and y- You told me to go at it."

"WHYYYYYY Would you EVER interpret it like THAT, MAN?!"

Dean is trying really hard not to sit there huffing and puffing like a crazy person but he's panicking, there's hundreds of alarms going off in his head and the smoke detector and it's a mess up there. "The fun- girls, we were talking about _GIRLS_ , Sam."

"Uh...But, Dean...."

"Look, I'm not— I get it that you're worried you might mess up and I don't know _bite_ her or something but, Man... I'm not gonna be your practice dummy— I made you a promise, but this 'show and tell' got way out of hand." Dean backs away now that he can.

"Practice dummy? You're not a practice dummy."

Sam reaches out to take Dean's hand but he shoves it away.

"Dean...wait, hang on." Sam whines.

"Don't you got homework to do?" Dean chews on his knuckles. "You should do your work, it's all good, all- yeah, we’re good.” 

"Dean...Don't do this." Sam cries.

"I should go for a walk, get some air, you do your—" Dean is pulled in by his wrist and his back falls into his little brother's chest. "Woah..." Dean gasps.

Sam felt unstable like he was about to crash into the floor and soon enough, he does, they're both falling onto the carpet. Sam landed on his knees, still sitting up and Dean was lucky enough to have the cushion of Sam's lap to keep his head free of trauma.

But when Dean feels something wet fall on his face, he looks up to see his brother crying a river of tears. He messed up big time.

"Sammy, shhh, hey, hey, don't cry." Now Dean cups his little brother's face. "Hey, it's alright, we're alright, I'm not mad, it was all a misunderstanding."

"No, Dean, you were the one that misunderstood, there's no girl I like, no girl I want to kiss, she had a thing for me— and her confession... got me realizing... I couldn't feel that way for for her, for anyone, except you, that's why I... I wanted to kiss you, I wanted to make sure I felt something and that I wasn't crazy or—" Sam stands up, pacing a little around the room.

"What..." Dean goes blank again. "Okay, okay, you're not crazy." Dean gets to his feet.

"Dean, do you love me?" Sam asks, though he's not sure if he wants an answer.

There's no hesitation. "Yes, Sam."

"Would you kiss me?" Sam swallows, everting his gaze away from him. "If I asked you to?"

  
  


Not the dreaded ‘K’ word, Dean thought they moved passed this, but it appears Sam is taking his time...

Anyway, why was that so important? Why’d he have to ask that? Dean is not sure yet, so he has to make up his mind fast...

Sam always asked so many damn questions he racked Dean's poor, slow, processing brain. This is too much, and Dean knows it.

But this is Sam, Sam's sweet, pink, little face turning red at the thought of kissing _him_ , holding in his tears like it doesn't hurt to dream.

Sam always got what he wanted, anything he asked Dean would make sure he got it, because that made Sam happy.

What's the difference between lassoing the moon for his nightlight and giving him a kiss? Those were both things Sammy wanted, both things that would make him happy. 

So Dean caved, he fell deeply into his brother's warm gaze that has everything to offer him, he'd like to believe he could be happy here too.

"Yes." Dean replies with the whole truth. "Til my last breath, if that's what you want, Sammy." _Anything for you, if you want this, I’ll want it too._ Dean narrows his eyes, a soft smile curling on his lips. 

"Then kiss me."

Dean settles for a sigh, and his smile keeps, as he slides his touch up to his little brother’s face. Dean demonstrates how to properly hold and cherish someone between your hands, and Sam’s paying attention. 

He’s not pulling or forcing Sam in, his thumbs caress his cheeks for guidance because once Dean closes his eyes everything goes black, searching for Sam’s lips. He finds them and he leans in until they’re pressing and he can feel it...

  


...and Dean does without hesitation, without a second thought, and the second and third try there was sparks flying around in their head, or maybe they shared the feeling between kisses.

But there’s sparks and that’s something Dean hadn’t anticipated, he wanted them to stay like this until they’re crippled and they’re fighting to breathe because their skin is pressing so heavily and forcefully into each other that neither can remember the misty taste of the room, only each other. 

Dean didn't let their lips separate until Sam's head was spinning, his fingers are indentions on his soft cheeks and neck and his baby brother is short of breath and begging for air.

All Sam can manage in that short time to breathe is "Can I kiss your neck?"

That receives a nod from Dean, tilting his head to the side and feeling Sam's soft lips on his throat. "All of me is yours, Sammy."

...

"All yours."

...

Two brothers share a space, they share the same desires and a chaste kiss. Two brothers share a love, share a soul. Two brothers find shelter under the covers from the cold, on a small, single, bed they had outgrown.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a lil somethin' new since the 3rd entry from the old book is going to take me longer to post, I could just post it with the gifs and description but I decided to write a piece to go with it that I'm super excited about, it's going to be extra time so have this in the meantime and probably a few other new works too.
> 
> This story has a lot of pieces of canon divergent. I see it as a pretty basic... not a really ‘wordsy’ story, but I think very poorly of my writing so, maybe it’s one of those times. Who knows. -shrugs- 
> 
> This was also a character written story, I let the characters write themselves, yay! Meta!  
> It’s nice because they didn’t do what I wanted them to do because I could sit there and play out this perfect scene but Dean is thrown off his game and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
> 
>   
> I didn't tag any spoilers for the fic because I wanted the reader to go into this as oblivious as Dean. I hope you liked it. Thank you for the love on my previous. <3


End file.
